


He tastes the sweeter

by whatsinamasterball



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Fingering, M/M, Rimming, Secret Santa Gift Exchange, Sexual Content, explicit content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsinamasterball/pseuds/whatsinamasterball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my gift to Flute for the JeanMarco secret santa gift exchange! I hope you like it, Tiff!<br/>Six days a week, Jean runs, goes for a smoothie, comes home. But his smoothies always taste better when made by a certain freckled boy who works behind the counter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He tastes the sweeter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WanderingTiff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingTiff/gifts).



Six days a week, Jean spends his mornings in much the same way. He rolls of his bed, grabs his running sweats, laces up his sneakers (that probably need replacing) and he heads out the door to go jogging. He finds it cathartic to run. Wakes him up, gives him a runner’s high, makes him feel less guilty about sitting in his room playing X-Box with his roommate all day, and also, Jean is a little vain, so having the body of Adonis makes him feel good about himself.

Even after high school ended, and he had no reason to keep up running for the track team, he kept with it. Every morning except for Sundays, in which he sleeps in until 1pm and does fuck all for the rest of the day.

After his three miles, he ends up at Smoothie King for breakfast. Originally it was for the delicious strawberry-kiwi smoothies with added protein powder, but more recently, he’s come to Smoothie King for a slightly different motive. A motive with a stutter-inducing smile and freckles.

And the cute boy who works the counter at Smoothie King doesn’t work every day. And sadly, his schedule is pretty erratic so Jean is either delighted to be greeted by smoothie boy, or disappointed and ends up sucking his smoothie solemnly the whole way home.

He catches his breath while he waits to cross the street before going into the store, stomping off the dirt that has accumulated on his dirty sneakers. When the crosswalk signs turns from a hand into a walking man, he jogs across the intersection of Rose and Maria into the store. He’s greeted by the smell of fresh fruit and grins immediately, trying to school his best smile for the freckled boy behind the counter.

“Yo, what can I get you, sweaty?”

Not the freckled somebody Jean was hoping to run into.

“You know, I should lodge a customer complaint against you. Calling your customers sweaty is rude and not good for business,” Jean groans and leans against the counter on his elbows.

“Get your nasty arms off my counter! I’m the one who has to clean those!” The tall freckled girl yells at him, trying to knock him off until he finally acquiesces. She’s wearing a bright orange company cap, with her hair poking out of it in a low ponytail and the same color polo shirt. She grabs a napkin and haphazardly wipes away the sweat that Jean left there (although she leaves the napkins on the counter, Jean notices with slight disgust).

“I’ll get the usual,” Jean grunts, moving to sit down at one of the immaculately clean tables towards the front of the store. He lets his eyes roam the shelves that are stocked with overpriced vitamins while he waits.

“Hey Marco! My shifts about to end, can you make Sweaty’s smoothie while I clean up, so Levi doesn’t kick my ass?”

Jean barely acknowledges the conversation going on behind the counter until the blender startles him, causing him to look up from the vitamin shelves. And giving him a blindingly stupid smile is the freckled boy.

Jean stands up so quickly that he nearly knocks over the chair, barely catching it before it falls. He curses under his breath and feels his face go red, all the way up to his hairline. He catches the freckled boy’s- Marco?- eye and he can’t help but grin like an idiot. Marco looks down, but Jean doesn’t miss the small smile and the pink tint to his cheeks.

“So, uh, how’s the smoothie coming along?”

“Well, I’d hope it’s coming along all right, otherwise I’d have to give you a full refund,” Marco replies cheekily, biting his tongue, the pink tip of it showing just between his teeth.

The rest of the time Jean is there goes much the same as every other time he interacts with the cute boy behind the counter. They joke a bit, have a bit of small talk, and then Jean pays, thanks him, and walks back home.

Except this time, Jean now knows his name (even though, apparently to those who work at that particular establishment, he’s known as ‘Sweaty’. No biggie).

Jean is just finishing up his smoothie when he walks into his apartment and tosses the Styrofoam cup into the trash. His roommate, Eren, a shaggy-haired brunette with a bad temper and a foul mouth, and Jean’s closest friend, is sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Lucky Charms. It’s still early in Eren-time so he just nods towards Jean in greeting.

Jean plops down in his normal seat, across from Eren and throws an arm back behind his chair, smug. He’s patient as he waits for his haughty aura to irritate Eren enough to say anything.

“Why do you look like you’re constipated, horse-face?” the brunette asks around a spoonful of marshmallows.

“Marco.”

“What?”

“I said, Marco.”

“Goddamnit Jean, repeating what I don’t understand doesn’t help me understand! Who the fuck is Marco?” Eren yells at Jean. He forcefully shoves another mouthful of sugary goodness into his mouth and grumbles a bit.

“The hottie at Smoothie King. I finally got his name today,” Jean replies, apparently proud of himself.

“So, you finally grew balls and asked him?” Eren raised one eyebrow towards his roommate.

Jean contemplates his answer for a second, losing a bit of his bravado, which Eren seems to notice. Before he can say anything about it, the blonde speaks up, “Not exactly. I heard one of the other employees say it. But it’s a start right? Especially since they already know who I am. Apparently they know me by now.” He didn’t elaborate on the kind nickname he had received.

“Okay, but knowing his name doesn’t mean jack shit in the scheme of things. You gotta ask him out, dude. It’s been what? A few months. You’re being a pussy,” another spoonful shoved into his mouth and then he tilted the bowl, draining the remaining pink and blue milk into his mouth.

“That’s disgusting, man,” Jean sighed. He raked his hand through his sweaty hair, thinking about what Eren said. He was right, to some extent. Jean had been silently pining over this guy that he has brief conversations with over a smoothie a few times a weeks for the last couple of months and has done absolutely nothing about it.

“All right, I’ll ask him out the next time I see him,” Jean decided out loud, standing up and stretching, so his back popped. He rolled out his shoulders and a smile formed on his face.

Eren held out his bowl for Jean to take, and as Jean took it, rolling his eyes, Eren said, “Well just don’t do it all sweaty. He’ll definitely say no then.”

\--

After mulling it over for a bit, Jean decided that Eren was right. Asking Marco out after getting done with a run maybe wasn’t the best idea. So he tried to catch Marco while he was on shift throughout the week, either later on in the day, after he was done showering, or going out on errand runs, or even on Sundays. Since Jean worked as a bartender most nights, his days were pretty open. His luck was just running thin. Sure, he’d run into him after his runs, but again, Jean wanted to look his best.

He was starting to think that he looked a little bit suspicious coming in multiple times a day to Smoothie King, and the freckled girl finally spoke up about it a few weeks later.

“Okay, no way you’re really just here for the fantastic smoothies or the nice view. Why have you been coming here during the day?” She asked, leaning up against the counter, eyeing him accusatorily.

“What, you don’t enjoy my patronage?” Jean answered, not really looking at her, more disappointed that Marco wasn’t here again.

She stared at him until he finally met her gaze, and was a little intimidated by the intensity of it. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he shrank back a little.

“It’s Marco, isn’t it?” She finally asked, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest.

“U-um, what?” Jean sputtered.

“Marco. My cute as fuck cousin who’s too good for you. You’re into him aren’t you?” She questioned.

“Wait, he’s your cousin?” Jean answered her question with his own.

“Yeah. The name’s Ymir. Look, come back around four. He should be in by then,” she told him and started walking towards the back room.

“Wait!” Jean called out to her, leaning over the counter so he could catch her before he left his field of vision. She stopped, but didn’t turn her head. “Why are you telling me this if he’s too good for me?”

Ymir finally looked over her shoulder with a smile that reminded him of the Cheshire Cat and then kept walking.

\--

Jean came back at four on the dot. He waited in his car for a bit, checking his ash blonde hair and brown undercut, making sure he looked presentable. He turned the key and pulled it out of the ignition and opened the door. One last look at himself in the reflection of his window, he started making the walk towards the front door. And in his excitement, as he was pushing the door open, he didn’t see the poor guy on the other side, and knocked him right over.

“Shit,” Jean cursed and squeezed through the door to help the guy he had just pushed down, and apparently spilled his own smoothie all over himself.

“Hey man, I’m really sorr-“ Jean stopped mid apology and his mouth proceeded to buffer until his brain caught up with it.

Laying down on the ground in front of him was none other than Marco himself. The force of the door caused him to spill his smoothie on his shirt and on the floor. Marco himself looked to be pretty much unharmed, so when he began getting up, he was already spouting off apologies.

“No, it was my fault, I really should’ve been paying attention to where I was… Hey, aren’t you the runner from the mornings?” Marco asked him with a smile.

Freckled Jesus. That’s the only explanation for how quickly he forgave Jean for bowling him over and wasting his perfectly good smoothie.

When his body was finally finished loading, Jean finally answered, “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Look, I am so sorry. Can I help you at all?” He asked, reaching out his arms, not really sure what to do with them.

Marco just laughed- a brilliant, spine chilling laugh- and shook his head. “No, really, it’s all right. I’ll just mop it up real quick. I was just going on break.”

“Oh. Uh, where were you going?” Jean asked, tentatively following him.

“Usually during my lunch break I go to the park,” Marco replied, getting the mop out from a supply closet that had a sign reading _Employees Only_. He came back with it and started mopping up the mess that Jean had caused.

“Well, can I at least pay for another smoothie? I feel bad for making you lose this one,” Jean offered, trying to give him an award-winning smile, but by the way Marco just giggled, it probably came out looking more like a grimace.

“If it’ll make you feel better, than sure. Would you like your usual as well while I make it?” Marco laughed. As he was finishing up mopping, Jean couldn’t help but notice the bulge that his arms made while he moved the mop back and forth over the floor. His face turned red as he moved to answer Marco.

“Actually, I didn’t come here for a smoothie,” Jean scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh?” Marco stopped his cleaning and leaned against the handle of the mop.

“I actually came here to see if you wanted to maybe go out with me sometime. You know, if you’re uh, interested or anything,” Jean kept his hand on the back of his neck and looked down at the floor before looking back up to see Marco smiling at him.

“Sure! I mean. Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. I mean, I’d love to,” he continued smiling.

“How does Saturday at 6 sound to you?”

\--

The rest of the week, Jean felt like he was on top of the world. Although asking him out initially didn’t at all go the way he had originally planned, he couldn’t be more pleased with the results. Even Eren’s incessant teasing couldn’t dampen his spirits.

Jean spent the remainder of the week planning his date. He made reservations at his favorite restaurant, owned by one of his best friends, Sasha. The restaurant itself was one of the most popular in town and was hard to get seated without a reservation, but because Jean and Sasha grew up together, Jean always got a special table if he requested it. This was just the first time it was used for a date. He was going all out.

Saturday afternoon, Jean paced around his room, deciding on what to wear. While the restaurant itself wasn’t super fancy, Jean didn’t know how much to dress up. He groaned for the millionth time while raiding his closet and finally decided on a simple cotton black v-neck and the nicest jeans he owned, his leather jacket and his boots.

After settling into his car, he put in the address that Marco had given him a few days before into the gps on his phone. He only lived about ten minutes away. Smiling, he put his car into gear and headed that way. As he was passing house after house, Jean couldn’t help but wonder what the date was going to be like. After dinner would he drop him back off? Would he want the night to continue? What if Marco ended up being totally uninterested?

Jean shook off those thoughts as the gps beeped, letting him know that he arrived. Checking his hair in the mirror, and running his hand over his smooth jawline, he stepped out of the car and headed toward the front door.

Marco had been waiting though, and stepped out before Jean even reached the porch. He looked amazing out of the horrid bright orange company shirt. He was wearing a blue button-up, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and nice, dark jeans. He looked better than Jean did, he thought to himself idly while waiting for Marco to reach him.

“Hi,” Marco greeted, standing in front of him.

Jean smirked, a crooked half-grin before saying, “Hey. You ready for some great food?”

Marco just nodded and they walked back to Jean’s car. The car ride there was filled with pleasant, if not a little bit nervous and awkward conversation. Marco was only one year older than Jean at 20 and worked to keep his little siblings in school while his parents traveled for their work.

“Smoothie King isn’t exactly my dream job, but I’ll have enough money saved up to go to college when I can. I’d much rather give my brothers and sister the opportunity to go right out of high school anyways.”

_Damn,_ Jean thought, _Freckled saint._

Jean had different reasons for not going to school, “I just wanted to work for a year first. Test the waters. I’ll probably end up rolling in the local university come next fall, but for now, I’m bartending.”

“What do you want to do?” Marco asked innocently.

“Probably physical therapy. You?”

“I’d like to become a child’s advocate one day,” he replied wistfully.

They talked some more, about Jean’s roommate, about Marco’s two brothers and one sister, who are all at this party that one of their friends are having, about the holidays coming up, with Christmas just around the corner. They complain how it never gets very cold in Trost. It doesn’t really keep up with the whole weather concept.

When they finally arrive at the restaurant, Jean parks and hurries out to open Marco’s door for him. The blush he makes is totally worth it.

The rest of the night goes much the same. Sasha comes through on her promise of a good table, the food is amazing, as always, and the company that Jean has is smiling at him with such sincerity that Jean might faint.

Jean was a little worried that since they didn’t know each other outside of Smoothie King, that conversation would be hard to keep going. But- mostly thanks to Marco- conversation runs smoothly. They make each other laugh, they learn more about each other. Jean is tempted to order desert even though he is stuffed to the brim, just to keep the night going a little bit longer.

But finally, Jean pays the check and declines Marco’s polite offer to pay for half. He stays seated for just a moment longer than he needs to, breathing in his surroundings before he needs to go.

The drive back to Marco’s is almost bittersweet. Marco knows it too. Jean’s hand is fidgeting on the console beside him, trying to decide whether or not it’d be okay to reach over a few inches and grab Marco’s hand.

But then they’re pulling up in Marco’s driveway. Jean looks at him and sighs, putting the car in park and pulling the key out of the ignition, to walk Marco to his door. They both get out, albeit a little slowly, and walk toward the front porch. Marco heads toward the door, but pauses and instead turns back around.

“I had a really great night, Jean,” he whispers into the dark.

“I did too. I’d really like to see you again sometime, if you’re up for it,” he says, taking a single step closer to him. Even though the winter nights don’t get cold in Trost, chills spread all over Jean’s skin when Marco steps toward him as well.

“If you’d like to… no one’s home,” Marco’s words ghost over Jean’s lips before courage surges through Jean’s veins, and he crosses the distance between two pairs of lips until they meet like fireworks. As lips and tongue explore each other, tenderly, tentative at first, Jean brings his hand up to Marco’s jaw and pulls him closer. That only makes Marco bolder, as he deepens the kiss, biting Jean’s lower lip. Jean exhales deeply, gently pushing Marco’s back towards the front door.

He tastes almost of dark chocolate, Jean muses while he presses his tongue further into the brunette’s mouth, strong, but sweet. Jean’s never felt anything quite like it.

Marco breaks away to breathe and whisper, “Would you like to…?”

“Oh god yes.”

So Marco fumbles with the keys, trying to get the door open, distracted by Jean’s figure pressed up against his back, kissing and sucking his neck. He let his head fall back for just a moment to allow Jean easier access, and then went back to the task of opening the door. When he finally gets it unlocked, he grabs Jean’s waist and pulls him inside, making sure he shuts the door with his foot once they’re both in.

Marco tries to corral them up the stairs, but they both just keep getting caught up with each other. Arms, legs, mouths, cheeks, lips, shoulders. There are so many new things that they need to explore, and it feels like they don’t have enough time in the world to do so.

Somehow, they both safely get up the stairs and into Marco’s room. He shuts the door, and then Jean is on him again. He’s feeling up and down Marco’s strong back, and Marco’s hands are on Jean’s sinewy and toned chest. They are both in awe of the other. Jean starts walking forwards, until Marco is being backed up against his own bed. He lowers himself down and settles himself so his back is flat against the mattress. Jean crawls up over him, and the way he does so makes Marco shiver.

Their lips meet again in sparks, and like a good tinder, it ignites the rest of them. Marco’s arms wrap around Jean’s waist and bring his hips down so they are slotted perfectly with his own. Jean’s arousal twitches, and even though his jeans, Marco feels it and gives an involuntary thrust upwards.

Jean moans into his lover’s mouth and reciprocates the movement. Their hips are moving in time with each other, slowly at first, but building up speed as each of them are seeking more friction.

But Jean stops for a moment. Marco gives a pitiful, and painfully cute whine at the loss of movement between them, but Jean leans down and whispers, “Is this okay? This is what you want?”

Marco’s eyes search Jean’s in the dark. And a small smile rests upon his lips. He brings his hand up to Jean’s cheek, and gently he replies, “Yes. Are you okay with it?”

“Hell yes. I was just making sure I wasn’t pushing any boundaries. You know… uh…,” Jean trailed off as Marco began kissing his neck as in confirmation that this is what he wanted.

And then, before realizing what was happening, Jean is being flipped over on his back, Marco straddling his waist. He tears off his shirt, and reaches to do the same with Jean. The blonde complies eagerly, and then starts on unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, but instead finds that dark hands are stopping him. He looks up, momentarily confused, before Marco begins to tug off his jeans for him and after Jean toes off his boots clumsily, he is left in just his boxers.

Marco leans over so that he can kiss Jean again, thrusting his tongue deep in his mouth, relearning everything about it, before breaking off to mouth along his jaw, then his neck, then down to his collar bone. Jean is in fucking heaven. He wants to badly to open his eyes to see exactly the way Marco’s lips move against his own, pale skin, but he is overwhelmed by the feeling and can’t bring himself to open his eyes. His breathing has become shallow and he’s biting back a moan that’s threatening to claw its way out of his throat, but Marco continues kissing every part of his body.

When he comes across the barbells in Jean’s nipples, that moan finally releases itself, and Marco’s cock reacts to it. He closes his eyes briefly before laving his tongue across Jean’s pert, and pretty nipples. He pulls back and blows on them lightly to see Jean’s face screw up and his back arch. He smiles, and continues his journey down Jean’s body. He kisses over the tight abs, and when his nose finally brush the blonde happy trail, Jean’s eyes finally open.

He’s expecting Marco to pull his boxers down, but instead, he moves down over them and _mouths_ along Jean’s cock over the fabric. Jean lets out a whine and runs his hands over his face. He’s trying his hardest not to just thrust his hips into Marco’s mouth, but it’s becoming more and more difficult by the second.

“Fuck,” Jean groans, fisting the sheets in his hands next to him.

That seems to spur Marco on enough, because he then yanks down Jean’s boxers and fucking _swallows_ his cock.

Whatever Jean was expecting, that was not it.

Jean tries, he really does, to keep his moaning quiet, but with the way that Marco expertly flicks his tongue around the head, and hollows his cheek around him, Jean is finding that increasingly difficult.

“Fuck, Marco, nngh, that feels s-so… _God,_ ” he praises the brunette, who continues to bob his head up and down, encouraged by the blonde’s filthy praises to him.

But if Marco keeps this up, Jean isn’t going to last much longer, and he doesn’t want the night to stop here.

“M-Marco, I’m gonna, c-come if you keep up,” he wheezes.

Marco slows down and finally lets off with a lewd _pop_ , “Mmm, okay. Then roll over,”

He didn’t have to ask twice.

Jean rolled over onto his stomach, pushing his ass out into the air, so he wasn’t lying directly over his already sensitive dick, while he heard Marco get up and start rifling through a drawer. He grabbed each side of the pillow his chin was resting on and squeezed it in anticipation. When Marco finally found what he was looking for, he came back and discarded the rest of his clothing before he crawled back over Jean.

Marco put the bottle of lube and the condom packet next to him while he grabbed Jean’s ass appreciatively. He leaned over and kissed his shoulder and again began working his way down his body until finally he was at Jean’s round ass. He looked up for a moment to get some sort of approval and when Jean wiggled his hips to give the O.K. Marco continued, until his tongue met Jean’s entrance.

Jean was absolutely beside himself and after Marco became comfortable and more relaxed, and began pushing his tongue into Jean’s heat, he began shaking. He bit the pillow to keep his own noises muted, but Marco was doing no such thing.

In between tongue strokes and flicks, Marco would give Jean praises. _You taste so good Jean,_ and _Those pretty little noises you make sound so good,_ were driving Jean up the wall. And finally, when Jean thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Marco finally pulled back and grabbed the bottle of lube. The blonde turned his head to watch Marco as he slicked his fingers with the cool liquid. While he was warming it up between his fingers, he gave himself a few casual strokes with his other hand and Jean bit back another moan. Marco looked at Jean, and gave him almost a lazy smile.

Then he brought his hand back down to Jean’s ass, and when his finger met Jean’s entrance, it slipped inside _so easy._ Jean was tight, and hot, but so flexible and it was so easy to keep thrusting his finger inside. Both of them were moaning at this point, and Marco’s patience was running thin. So when he felt he could, he slid another finger in, careful not to go too fast.

But Jean was getting impatient too. When he got a look of Marco’s cock, all he could think about was how good, how _incredible_ it would feel inside him. Marco was thick and long, Jean was shaking again. He began moving his hips back to meet Marco’s fingers, fucking himself on them. Finally, when Marco’s third finger was inside Jean, he was sputtering, “Come on M-Marco, p-please, just _fuck me already,”_

The way Jean said that caused Marco to _growl_ in response. He took his fingers out of Jean, wiped them on his sheets haphazardly, and then ripped open the condom packet and slid it over himself. As he began slicking himself with lube, Jean was again preparing himself for what was about to come.

Finally, when the tip of Marco’s cock was lead towards Jean’s entrance, Marco asked, “Are you ready?” and at Jean’s nod, he pushed himself in. The further he went, the hotter it got, the tighter Jean became, the more that Marco’s eyes threatened to cross. He went slowly, so that Jean could adjust around him, so he braced himself by leaning over him, his hands on either side of Jean’s shoulders. When he finally bottomed out, he let his head rest against Jean’s neck while he let the blonde get used to his intrusion. He was panting, hard, but he let Jean take his time.

When Jean finally gave the O.K. by turning his head over and kissing Marco gently on the cheek, Marco kissed him back.

Then he started to pull back out. Slowly, he pulled to where the tip was just barely in, and then he bottomed out again. Jean was trying to get him to go faster, _harder,_ with the way that he would meet Marco’s hips with his ass when he started thrusting back in. But Marco was patient. He wanted to build Jean up until he was screaming his name, so that when he finally climaxed, the plummet would be just as amazing.

So Marco kept up the slow, deep pace for a while. Jean’s eyes were closed and he was whining. He was getting _so close._ He was climbing the highest summit and the altitude was making everything that much more sensitive. The friction that the thrusting was causing against his cock felt _so fucking good_ between himself and the mattress. But Marco was still keeping up the same pace.

“Marco, please, Marco fuck me _harder,_ please Marco,” Jean begged for release. And how could Marco really honestly say no to that? Besides, he was starting to wear himself out by holding back so much. So when he bottomed out again, he pulled back and _rammed_ into him, _hard._

Jean cried out in total fucking ecstasy. He met Marco thrust for thrust until that went faster and harder and they kept fucking building and then Marco hit Jean’s sweet spot _just fucking perfectly_ and Jean screamed out his name while he came.

The pressure and the _heat_ that Jean caused while he was coming was enough to send Marco over the edge right after him. He rode out both of their orgasms while they were both calling out to each other while they rode off towards oblivion.

Marco collapsed on top of Jean for a while, completely and totally fucked-out. Jean was still panting, but he was smiling, and he wiggled his ass a little until Marco hissed at the feeling. The blonde chuckled a bit while Marco finally got the strength to pull out. He was careful not to be too rough with Jean while he did so, which Jean was appreciative of. He tied off his condom and threw it in the general direction of his trash can which he figured he would take out in the morning.

“I uh, kinda made a mess of your sheets,” Jean chuckled while he rolled over to check the damage. Marco just flopped onto his back, and sighed, content.

“It’s all right, they probably needed washing anyways,” he said, looking over to his blonde lover. He reached over to the side of his bed and picked up an old t-shirt, which he used to haphazardly clean up the come that was on Jean’s stomach. Then, he curled Jean up, close to him, wrapping his arms around his smaller, wiry frame.

Neither one of them knows when they finally passed out, but it was after they continued having easy conversation. Pillow-talk was never something that came easily to Jean, but with Marco, it would have felt wrong to just get up, get dressed and leave. So he stayed. And they talked. And in the morning, Jean woke up to Marco smiling over him, with a plate of cheesy scrambled eggs.

\--

Two weeks later, Jean jogged into Smoothie King with a smile on his face. He was greeted by two freckled faces; one considerably more happy than the other.

“Hey babe,” Jean greeted the smiling freckled boy, leaning across the counter to kiss him on the nose. Ymir, made gagging noises and proceeded to whack the blonde on the side of his head.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to be gross around me? Besides you smell like a wet dog,” Ymir crinkled up her nose.

Marco just laughed and playfully elbowed her in the ribs. “I never complain when you’re around Historia,” he joked.

Jean just smiled, leaning up against the counter, watching his boyfriend and his cousin bicker over who is the grossest couple.

From then on, his smoothies tasted just a little sweeter.


End file.
